I sprinted through the thick forest, forcing my wolf form to run faster than ever before. A nagging feeling gnawed at the back of my mind, a sinister thought whispering that something had gone wrong during my absence at the estate. The unnatural scent in the air was overwhelming—sharp and acrid. The musty smell of werewolves faded, as though driven away by something far worse.

The need to protect Annie and her mother consumed me. My muscles burned with the urgency to reach them, as I felt the beast within me in agreement with my sense of danger. Without hesitation, I surrendered to its pull once again. My body rippled as my skin shifted, fur sprouting in an instant. My bones realigned, and my form elongated, transforming into the lycanthrope form, fueled by fury and desperation.

When I arrived, the sight before me froze me in place. It was a scene grotesque and surreal.

In front of the guest house lay an enormous toad-like creature, its form casting a shadow over the lawn. Its massive body sprawled across the ground, its belly round and distended, rising and falling with each slow, slumbering breath. The beast was over six feet tall, its mottled skin glistening in the moonlight. But it wasn't its size alone that struck me with disbelief—it was the movement on its enormous belly.

A few small hands writhed and moved inside the massive toad's stomach, twitching and clawing as though they had a life of their own. The sight was horrifying—an unbelievable display that might have sent others running. And yet, it brought me a strange sense of relief. Vantos' familiar, Titus, had kept its promise. It had protected Annie and her mother. The proof was inside of him.

My instincts hadn't betrayed me this time. Another werewolf raid had been planned during my absence, and if it hadn't been for Titus, the outcome could've been catastrophic. The sense of immediate danger faded, letting the tension drain from my body as I returned to my human form. The primal rage that had fueled my transformation dissipated, leaving behind a steady resolve to uncover the truth behind this attack.

I approached the unusual creature, its enormous bulk sprawled across the lawn like an impenetrable fortress. The muffled sounds of its prey echoed faintly from within, the struggles of its victims fading as they succumbed to the overwhelming power of the massive toad. As I stood before Titus, I noticed a disturbing shift—the lesser werewolves inside his belly began to partially revert to their human forms. Twisted, contorted shapes moved faintly within the translucent skin of the toad's belly before falling completely still. Their transformation marked the acceptance of their grim fate, their movements ceasing as the toad's overwhelming dominance claimed them.

I remained still by the terrifying sight when the sound of approaching footsteps broke my focus. Derrick and Antolio emerged from the shadows, stopping slowly, as they took in the scene before them.

"What the—?" Derrick said, staring wide-eyed at the massive toad sitting in front of the guest house lawn. "Is that... a toad?"

I turned slightly toward him, a faint smile spreading across my face. "That’s Titus—Vantos’ familiar. He kept his promise and protected the estate while we were gone. The strange scent I sniffed earlier? That was him."

Derrick's gaze flicked between me and the giant toad. "You're telling me that massive thing is the tiny black frog Vantos let you have? That... thing saved Annie and her mother?"

"I can't believe it either. I had my doubts too. But he's the one who completely stopped the werewolves from attacking the estate. The proof of his work... is inside him."

Antolio began to sign rapidly, grabbing Derrick's attention. Derrick nodded before glancing at me. "Antolio wants to know—what are we going to do with the massive toad?"

I stepped closer to Titus, drawn to the strange energy exuded by him. I placed my hand gently on his cold skin, grateful for his presence. "Thank you, Titus, for protecting the people I care about."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, the stillness of the night broken only by the faint rustling of leaves and the sound of a crow flying over the estate. Then, suddenly, Titus' enormous eyes snapped open, glowing faintly in the dim light. His eyes shifted slowly, first to Derrick, then to Antolio, before finally laying his gaze on me.

The toad opened its mouth, revealing a horrifying array of sharp teeth that gleamed ominously. Its massive tongue began to creep out, and without warning, the tongue darted forward, caressing my left cheek with unsettling precision. A sudden numbness spread instantly, leaving the side of my face tingling and unresponsive.

Derrick took a cautious step back, his eyes widening in surprise as he noticed the numbing effect spreading across my cheek. "Uh... is that normal? Should we be worried about this thing... licking us?"

I raised a hand to my cheek, pressing against the numbed skin as I shook my head slightly. "No, it's not normal. But I think... I think it's his way of showing affection."

I paused, glancing back at Titus, whose massive tongue had already retreated into his cavernous mouth. "Although, I wouldn't recommend letting him lick you. His saliva possesses a strong numbing effect. Now I understand how he was able to capture all these werewolves—they didn't stand a chance once he got close."

The crow that had been circling above the estate swooped down, landing in front of Titus. The bird ruffled its feathers, shifting and contorting until its form morphed into the familiar figure of Vantos. His smile was sly, his eyes gleaming as he took in the massive size of his transformed familiar.

"An impressive sight, don't you agree, young master?" Vantos said. "When my dear Titus reaches this monstrous form, the energy he emits is... extraordinary. I came as soon as I felt it. But I must warn you—Titus can be a bit stubborn when it comes to releasing his prey."

"We need them alive. I want answers. I need to know why they decided to attack the estate again."

"Ah, I see. Unfortunately, I must inform you that some of these werewolves... are already dead. The life force extracted by Titus tends to be rather final. However, one remains intact—for now. I'll do my best to convince Titus not to devour what's left of the last werewolf inside of him."

Vantos turned towards Titus, waving at him. "Alright pretty boy, let them go."

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Titus croaked in response, his gaze shifting away from Vantos in what could only be described as defiance.

"Is this how it's going to be?" Vantos said, sighing in frustration. "Don't start with me Titus or you forgetting who feeds you every day?"

Titus let out another low croak, clearly unimpressed by Vantos' words. The dynamic between the two felt almost absurd, as Titus seemed to communicate in his own peculiar, obstinate way with his master.

Vantos threw his hands into the air, visibly exasperated. "We don't have time for this childishness! You're not a tadpole anymore!"

Titus responded by closing his enormous eyes, pointedly ignoring Vantos, exuding a silent defiance.

"This is embarrassing," Vantos said. "Common Titus, spit them out. You're eight hundred years old, not five."

Titus remained motionless; his massive eyes blinked slowly, unbothered by Vantos' rant. He turned toward me with a sigh, irritated. "This is going to take some time. Titus has always been a bit troublesome when it comes to spitting out his meal."

I smirked faintly, stepping forward. "Mind if I give it a try?"

"Be my guest, young master. Maybe he will decide to listen to someone who hasn't been cleaning his slime for decades."

I walked closer to Titus, who immediately narrowed his yellow eyes, unsure of my intentions. "My friend, I'm eternally grateful for your help. Without you, Annie and her mother might have faced a terrible fate. Would you be kind enough to release the last werewolf alive inside your belly? I need to understand why they attacked my home."

Titus let out a slow croak, moving his head as if considering my words. Then, without warning, he opened his mouth wide and shot his tongue at me. The slimy appendage smacked against my right cheek, numbing it instantly with its potent saliva. I stumbled back slightly, raising a hand to my face in surprise. Titus turned his gaze toward Vantos, croaking rapidly in a way that almost sounded demanding.

"That was it? You just wanted me to be nice to you? Why didn't you say so in the first place?" Vantos said, clearly irritated.

A low rumble erupted from the toad's massive form, making the ground tremble slightly.

Vantos took a step back, waving his hand in warning. "You might want to give him some space. This is the part when he is about to release its prey and... it's a bit unpleasant."

Titus began to retch violently, his entire body convulsing with each heave. The first corpse emerged with a sickening squelch, a lifeless werewolf partially transformed, its fur matted with blood and slime. Another violent heave followed, spitting out two more bodies—werewolves who hadn't fully transformed before being swallowed. Their limp forms landed heavily on the ground, coated in a thick, yellowish mucus.

With one final, guttural retch, Titus expelled the last three werewolves, their bodies sliding onto the grass in a disgusting heap. Two were clearly lifeless, limp, and motionless. The third, however, coughed and gasped, weak but alive, struggling to move against the yellow slime covering him. The survivor was an old man that wasn't transformed into a werewolf.

After expelling the bodies from his belly, Titus' massive form began to shrink. The toad reduced itself until it became the small black frog we had first encountered at the Glass Club. With a light leap, the diminutive creature landed on Vantos' shoulder, letting out a small, indignant croak.

"You're hungry?" Vantos said, after listening to his familiar complaint. "Did you see how big you got? For now, you're on restrictive eating. You tend to get... defiant while feasting."

On the ground, the lone survivor of Titus' wrath barely moved, trapped under the thick, yellowish slime coating his body. Yet, he managed to lift a trembling hand, a sign that he was at least conscious. The sight of his movement caught Vantos' attention. He got closer and kneeled beside the man. With a single touch of his finger, the slime began to dissolve, evaporating into a faint mist.

As the slime cleared, the old man gasped for air, coughing violently. Freed from the suffocating residue, he collapsed onto the grass, struggling to stabilize his breathing.

"Well," Vantos said, brushing his hands as though finishing a task. "It seems my work here is done. Time for us to leave, right, Titus?"

The small black frog croaked a few times in agreement before disappearing into the folds of Vantos' robe. With a playful smirk, Vantos turned to me, tipping an imaginary hat. "Do try not to break him too much during your interrogation, young master. He doesn't look like he'll last long in his current state. And as for me, sunrise is approaching, and Titus despises the sun," Vantos paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "If you're interested, young master, I could hand you Titus' contract since he seems to like you so much. Still have a few centuries left on it."

"Maybe another time. For now, I have to figure out how to deal with this ridiculous amount of numbing slime spread across the estate."

"Don't sweat the details. That slime will fade once the sun is fully up. It'll be gone by sundown—no harm, no foul. Just watch your step until then," Vantos snapped his fingers, and a portal appeared behind him.

"You're not flying out of here?" I asked.

"I cannot take on a different form while transporting another being with me. You don't want your life force entwined with that of a forbidden familiar. Trust me, the results would not be... aesthetically pleasing." Vantos said. "Speaking of forbidden magic, I've uncovered a clue regarding the ancient seal inside your memories. While sneaking into the Vault of Knowledge within the Trade Clan's fortress, I found a single recording of an attempt to cast that specific incantation. Unfortunately, the warlock who dared to attempt the forbidden seal was cast out of the Trade Clan—just as I was, though for different reasons."

"So, you're not part of the trade clan?" I asked.

"Not by choice. I was cast out decades ago for contracting Titus, my favorite forbidden familiar. You see, I was never particularly skilled with elemental magic—it bored me. The Dark Arts, on the other hand, are infinitely more fascinating. But as you might expect, they also carry... unique risks. I fought relentlessly to allow the teachings of the Dark Arts into the clan, but the Grandmaster was unyielding. The current leader of the Trade Clan and I have always been on opposite sides of the spectrum. While he clings to tradition, I've always sought progress—even if that progress requires stepping into forbidden territories."

Vantos gestured toward Titus, who let out a faint croak from the folds of his robe. "As you've seen with your own eyes, having a forbidden familiar has its advantages. Titus' strength and loyalty are unmatched, though his hunger for life force is... well, an occupational hazard. It's manageable if you know where to find the right sources. A forbidden familiar prey on beings exuding weak amounts of life force—lesser werewolves, for example. It doesn't matter if they're vampires, humans, or wolves; they have no preference."

Vantos glanced at the bodies strewn across the grass, fixing his gaze on the survivor of Titus' wrath. "All those werewolves are dead simply because they were malnourished and weak. On the other hand, the old man sparks my curiosity. He doesn't seem to belong with his companions."

With a final wave of his hand, Vantos turned toward the portal shimmering in the air. "That's enough chatter for now. I have matters to attend to. If you need assistance, don't hesitate to reach out, young master. And don't forget—I'm still quite interested in offering you a deal for a portion of your primal blood," he said with a sly grin before stepping through the portal and disappearing.

As the portal faded, Derrick and Antolio leaned in closer, squinting at the old man covered in slime residue. Antolio signed rapidly, getting Derrick's attention. "Yes, that's definitely Gerald, Curtis' right-hand man. Is he dead?"

I crouched beside the slime-covered man, reaching out to check for a pulse. The moment my fingers made contact with the sticky residual layer encasing him, a strange numbness traveled up my hand, as if I had touched something unnaturally cold.

"No, he's not dead—just stunned, it seems. Whatever Titus did, it's kept him in a sort of suspended state."

Derrick nodded. "Ok, so... what about the bodies?"

"Take the dead ones to the old barn behind the estate," I said, standing and brushing my hands off. "As for Gerald, he's the only one alive. The cells in the basement don't lock from the outside, so, restraint him to the wall. That should hold him for now. Once he's awake, we'll have some questioning to do."

"Understood."